26. Dagmara

After hearing the truth about Ilusauri’s deterioration, Dagmara knew she had to warn Queen Bernadette. Dagmara had to get to the Ilusaurian Scribestone somehow. Luckily, she was already in the royal wing, standing outside the greenhouse with the guard Claude assigned to her. This was the perfect moment to sneak off to the Scribestone.

Also, she wanted to ensure Magda had arrived in Flaustra safely. Magda had promised to send a message, but Dagmara hadn’t had the opportunity to check.

Reaching into her pocket, she felt the vial of bilans she had grabbed while packing for their abrupt departure. She eyed the guard, but he seemed to purposely be watching the doors instead of her.

Turning away from him, she quickly withdrew the vial, dumping it into the palm of her gloved hand before hiding the vial back in the depths of her pocket. Rubbing her satin gloves together, she knew she had to be fast before the potion began seeping through the fabric.

“Excuse me,” Dagmara said, lifting the pitch of her voice to sound innocent. She approached the guard and held out her palms. “I’m overheating, and these gloves are too slippery for me to take off. Can you help?”

The guard’s nose twitched, a single question crossing his expression in the blink of an eye. “Martine can help when she gets here.”

“I can’t possibly wait that long,” she persisted. “I wouldn’t want to faint on your watch.”

With that statement, he conceded. “Yes, guardian,” he said before reaching out and removing her gloves with his bare hands. He did so carefully, as if attempting not to hold her hand at all. As soon as he had one off, he put it in the crook of his elbow, and then slowly began removing the next. Once the second one was removed, his expression changed after seeing the scar on her palm, but before he could ask about it, he stumbled slightly.

“Sorry, Princess, I think I’m lightheaded as well.”

“Shall we sit?” Dagmara started for the bench before he had the chance to hand her back the gloves soaked in poison.

A loud thud echoed through the room as the guard dropped to the ground.

Maybe she had used a little too much in her haste.

She squatted beside him, using the fabric of her skirt as a barrier to pick up the gloves and deposit them into a nearby flower arrangement. They disappeared into the colorful array. Luckily, if the flowers were truly a projection of Claude’s mind magic, the bilans wouldn’t affect them. As long as no one saw the wound on her palm, questioning why she hadn’t healed it as a Life Guardian, she would be fine.

Racing out of the courtyard, yet trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, she stopped a maid passing through the corridor. “Martine asked me to meet her by the Scribestone. Do you know where that is?”

The maid’s face paled, clearly shocked that Dagmara was even speaking to her. “In the royal library, Princess,” she said before gesturing to a stunning silver door.

“Thank you,” Dagmara said before any more questions were asked. Luckily, she saw no one else in sight. She dashed to the library entrance and let herself in.

Shock rippled through her entire body at the grandeur of the space. The carpet was a patterned silver, and black banners hung from the rafters with the Ilusaurian crest. Bookshelves were stacked on either side, extending two stories tall. A few spiral staircases were spread throughout the space. The entire ceiling was a glass dome, allowing a pristine view of the starry night sky. The moon was aglow, so large that Dagmara questioned if this too was an illusion, or if the sky was really that beautiful.

On the other side of the library, across the entire stretch of the center alley, she saw a raised platform. It contained a different shade of bookshelves, spaced between floor to ceiling windows with silver curtains. In the center of the platform was a glass case with a silver book, resting on a circular table.

Dagmara raced forward, hearing her boots against the carpeted floor. There was seemingly no one else here, giving her the perfect opportunity.

Skipping up the stairs to the platform, she slid to a halt in front of the glass case. The book, glowing with magic, was the Ilusaurian Scribestone. She pressed her palms to the glass to slide it off, but it wouldn’t budge. Examining the case more meticulously, she spotted a keyhole.

The Scribestone was locked.

“You need this to use it.” A voice echoed through the room.

Whirling on her heel, she faced the door. Sabien was entering the library, shaking a ring with two golden keys. He had a smirk plastered to his face, as if he knew her plans were foiled and that he was holding the only solution. She watched as he slipped them into his back pocket before letting the heavy door shut behind him.

“What are you doing here?” Sabien asked.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Dagmara replied, clasping her hands in front of her.

A dark laugh rumbled from Sabien’s throat. He was still sauntering down the center aisle of the expansive library, approaching her. He held up his hand, revealing a piece of parchment she hadn’t noticed. “Business for the king,” he said. “What’s your excuse?”

“Waiting for Martine,” said Dagmara. It wasn’t entirely a lie.

He reached the platform and strode up the steps. Dagmara watched as he got taller and taller, until he finally reached the top of the platform. He approached her still, and she attempted to step away but felt the glass of the Scribestone against her back.

A grin creased on his face when he stopped only inches from her. “I like that I make you nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“All the muscles in your neck just tensed. I would say you’re nervous.”

Swallowing hard, Dagmara tried to relax, but could practically feel the weight of his gaze as his eyes roamed her neck.

“As far as I know,” he continued, “the king hasn’t granted you permission to use the Scribestone.”

“I was only looking at it.”

His eyebrows raised. “Your lies may work on other people, but they don’t work on me.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

“See?” Sabien reached out and ran a single knuckle down the length of her neck. “It’s a dead giveaway.”

He shifted away from her, and his absence struck her nearly as much as his proximity. He approached the last bookshelf, pushing the billowing curtains aside as he grabbed a burgundy box off the shelf that rested next to a glass globe. She watched as he cracked the lid and hid the parchment he was holding.

Sabien had said he was here for official business. What exactly was on that piece of paper?

She had to find out.

But she had to warn Queen Bernadette about the famine that threatened Ilusauri, and what that meant for Azurem. If it were true all the Life Guardians were gone, Azurem could fall to the same fate. Yet, if she convinced Sabien to let her use the Scribestone, he would undoubtedly watch over her shoulder. She had to get the key and use it without him watching.

There was only one way she could reach into his back pocket without him noticing.

She had seduced men before. How hard could it be to seduce the Captain of the Ilusaurian Guard who happened to be extremely seductive himself?

She shifted her corset slightly, feeling the throwing stars stitched into the ribbing, as she inched it lower. Then she approached him, leaning against the floor length window as he set the box back on the bookshelf, concealing the slip of paper inside. She took the curtain in her grasp, running her fingers against it. “So tell me, how does a…” she paused for effect, sizing-up his figure with her gaze, “...strapping man like yourself become the captain? You must be great at giving orders.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. He raised his arm, placing his palm against the glass as he leaned forward and began closing the distance between them. “I do more than give orders,” said Sabien.

Dagmara let the curtain slip away as she cocked her head, inching closer. “Such as?”

Sabien lifted his opposite hand, tilting her chin up with his knuckles. “What are you up to?”

She could feel her stomach churning, her neck completely exposed as she was forced to look directly up at him.

“I’m bored here,” Dagmara replied, “and you look fun.”

He shifted closer, his lips nearly touching hers. His breath was warm as he said, “I am. Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

This was her moment, and she took it. Her lips slammed against his, and he kissed her back with such ferocity it was almost all consuming. His tongue was instantly in her mouth, causing a soft whimper to escape from her lips. The noise elicited a sensual growl from him. His hands went to her waist, gripping her before pressing her against the glass window. She wrapped her arms around his neck, entangling her fingers in his thick hair. The kiss was relentless, and Dagmara nearly forgot the reason she had kissed him in the first place.

She slid one hand down his back, easily finding his belt. She lingered there for a moment, not wanting to draw too much attention to her maneuvers. One of his hands shifted, finding the back of her neck. He gripped the base of her hair, yanking her head back to deepen the kiss. His other hand traced her hip, finding every curve of her body.

Her fingers found the keyring in his back pocket and withdrew them, careful not to make a sound. Her mission was accomplished, but she could let him keep kissing her all night.

Then a memory flashed against the back of her eyelids. The last man she had kissed was Prince Aleksy. The thought sharpened in her mind, and she could suddenly feel every inch of herself. She felt the buttons of Sabien’s shirt digging against her chest. She felt his teeth scrape her bottom lip. She felt his hand tighten around her thigh as he touched her body—no wait. There was something wrong about the way his hand felt her leg. He wasn’t running it against her curves. He was grabbing clumps of her dress, and not in a way to lift it up.

The poison vials in her pocket clanked against one another as he found them through the folds of the fabric. If he reached into her pocket and withdrew one, her mission would be over.

He was kissing her for the exact same reason she was. He was trying to find out what was hidden in her pockets.

She shoved her free hand between their bodies and forced him away. He didn’t back off gently, taking much more of Dagmara’s strength to separate them than she would have liked. She slithered out from underneath him, creating space between them as she hid the keys behind her back.

“This isn’t right,” she panted. The way her body reacted said otherwise, but she forced that thought away. “I’m marrying the king.” She was lightheaded, and wasn’t sure if it was because of Sabien or her health. She quickly stepped closer to the circular table and leaned her weight against it.

Sabien laughed, running a hand through his hair to fix what she had messed up. “Whatever you say, Princess,” he said, though there was a hint of sarcasm.

“I’m serious,” she said, a new annoyance erupting inside her. First he kissed her to find out what was in her pockets—then he was laughing about it? “You should go.”

He leaned his shoulder against the bookcase, crossing his arms. “You could’ve asked for the keys.”

Shock rippled through her body. She knew he was feeling her up only to search her pockets—of course he would know she was doing the same to him. They were too like-minded.

His eyes darted to her neck again, seeing her muscles constrict, and a smile reappeared on his face.

“But then you wouldn’t have had the chance to kiss me,” she said, revealing the keys and playing with them in front of her.

His grin turned wicked. “As much as I enjoyed that, I don’t enjoy being used.”

She scoffed. “My hands weren’t the only ones roaming.”

“What’s in your pockets?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Would you rather I wait until your clothes are fully off before searching your pockets?”

Heat flushed her entire body, and the sudden rush nearly caused her to drop the keys. She cleared her throat, controlling her emotions. “I would rather use the Scribestone to check in on my mother after weeks of travel.”

Sabien gestured to the glass case, “By all means.”

A shadow flashed across her face as a bird flew toward the window, landing on a ledge outside. Her eyes narrowed, inspecting it. It was the same bird she saw on the balcony the first day she met King Claude.

Sabien glanced out the window, following her gaze, before raising an eyebrow. “What are you waiting for?” His head inclined toward the Scribestone.

With another glance out the window, the bird had vanished.

“N-Nothing,” said Dagmara. She crossed to the case and inserted one of the keys, having luck with the first try. The lock clicked open, and the glass case unfolded. She reached her hand out and rested her palm against the stone, letting the mystical book read her identity. To her shock, letters began to appear on the page.

One message from Teos Zosia, Azurem.

A gasp escaped her lips.

“Who’s Teos?”

Nearly jumping out of her shoes, Dagmara whirled around to face Sabien. “A little privacy maybe?”

“It’s alright,” he said. “I don’t mind that you have a man in Azurem. I like my women to be experienced.”

“Ew!” Dagmara blurted out before she could stop herself.

A curious expression crossed Sabien’s face.

What was she doing? She couldn’t let Sabien know that Teos was her brother. “I mean…I didn’t mean…”

He held a hand up, “None of my business, I’ll give you privacy.” He flashed her a wink before descending the steps, leaving her alone on the platform. She could still feel his gaze, but knew he was too far away to read the text.

She quickly turned back to the Scribestone, waving her hand above it to uncover the message.

I know I have to start this message telling you not to worry about me. It’s still just a cough at this point. Until I’m bedridden, I’m going to help any way I can. Someone out there murdered Aleksy, and it’s not fair. For all I know, you’re with the murderous King Claude now.

I’m hoping you get this as soon as you arrive. I convinced Queen Bernadette to ask the border knights for a list of everyone that entered into Azurem the month prior to the coronation. Only three Ilusaurians crossed, arriving the day before the coronation. Mael Revel, Lyam Desco, and Samuel Arsenault. It fits—three Ilusaurians and three assassins. They’re supposedly ambassadors, but Bernadette had never heard of them.

I analyzed the seal on their entrance papers, and it was a real ambassador seal. They weren’t forged, which means King Claude signed off on these people entering Azurem whether they are fake aliases or not. Can you find out who they are?

I doubt it could be anyone else. Others who crossed would have had to pay a fortune to get their name removed from this official list. Perhaps that Ilusaurian who gave you the black eye paid to remove his name from the list, but he would have to have a lot of money, so he would have to be important—of a noble or a higher status. I’ll try to find out if anyone received suspiciously large paychecks.

Hope you’re safe. Queen Bernadette doesn’t know you swapped. I think she sent a letter to Magda and will be expecting a response though.

Your favorite partner in crime, T

It calmed her slightly to hear Teos wasn’t declining as quickly as other children, but he could be hiding the truth so she didn’t worry.

Dagmara’s head spun. She committed the names he listed to memory, repeating them over and over. She had to find out who they were.

She looked over her shoulder, seeing Sabien watching her from afar. “Do you have a guidebook of all the official ambassadors and appointed liaisons?”

“First of all we don’t have liaisons, we have governors,” Sabien said, “but yes. Why?”

“My mother suggested learning about them before the engagement ball so I can make a good impression. Seeing as I didn’t even know you have governors, it is probably a good idea,” she said.

“It’s upstairs. I can get it,” he stated. “But I’m watching you. Don’t run off with my keys.”

“Wouldn’t think of it.” She flashed him a smile before watching him disappear behind a nearby bookshelf.

Then she quickly returned to the Scribestone, summoning a brand new message.

Thanks T, I don’t know what I’d do without you. We really do make a good team. Find out if they departed from Azurem.

I’m safe, will talk soon. Please take care of yourself.

She sent it to Teos only, watching the ink evaporate before her eyes. No new message appeared. Where was Magda’s letter? Had she made it to Flaustra safely?

Concern trickled through Dagmara, but she pushed it aside. Magda was fine. She had to be.

Then Dagmara composed a new message.

Queen Bernadette,

Magda and I have just arrived in Ilusauri, and we are taking a long time to settle in. The king has been nice so far. He warned us that the guardians are connected to the land. Have you noticed anything different about Azurem? Magda suggested taking precautions for a rough winter just in case.

She sends her love.

Dagmara

It was the best she could do without raising too much suspicion. Dagmara sent it off immediately, not allowing herself to think twice about it. She could hear a creak of the floorboards above, and a shadow cast over the balcony. Sabien was still collecting the guidebook.

Glancing over at the bookshelf, Dagmara set her gaze on the box. She had to know what the parchment was that Sabien had stored away for the king. Racing over, she quickly peeled back the lid and pulled out the top piece of paper. Unfolding it, she revealed a map. It was drawn in charcoal, but the landscape was evidently Ilusauri. There was one, bold stroke of ink circling a city directly south of the castle.

Nouchenne.

Why was that city highlighted and the others weren’t? And why did that name sound so familiar?

Footsteps alerted Dagmara that Sabien was descending the staircase. She quickly folded the paper, slipped it back in the box and covered her tracks. She returned to the center of the platform and began closing the glass case, locking away the Scribestone as Sabien approached with a book under his arm.

“Keys,” he asked, holding out his palm.

Dagmara returned the keys.

Then Sabien held out the giant black book. “Here is the current administration.”

“Thank you,” said Dagmara, reaching out to take it, but he quickly withdrew.

“What do I get in return?”

Startled, Dagmara’s expression withered. “I gave you your keys.”

He chuckled, “No, I want something else.” He took a step closer. “Show me what trinkets you have in your pocket.”

“Don’t be rude,” Dagmara said. She reached out once more, but he held the book above her head. Her chest nearly smacked into his, and he took advantage of her proximity. He grabbed her chin, leaning closer.

“It’s only fair to reciprocate generosity,” he said.

She batted his hand away, jerking back. “I’m a guardian, of course I’m generous.”

His lip curled into a vicious grin. “I see right through you. Who are you trying to fool?”

Her stomach plummeted. Her skin prickled, and she felt the shift in her breathing.

Then he grabbed her wrist, lifting her hand up to reveal her palm. “A little odd for a guardian with healing abilities to have a recent wound, isn’t it?”

Dagmara tried to pull away, but his grip was too tight. “It’s an old scar.”

“Really?” Sabien shifted his grasp, digging his thumb into the center of her palm.

A gasp escaped her lips as pain surged through her hand, rippling up her arm. “Stop!” she shrieked, shoving his chest.

To both of their surprise, the library door opened, and Martine entered. “There you are!” Dagmara’s guard exclaimed.

Sabien immediately relinquished Dagmara, stepping away.

Yanking her hand to her chest, Dagmara examined the mark. The cut had reopened, and a drop of blood was pooling in the center of her palm. She glowered at Sabien before hiding her hand behind her back.

“I thought I…” Martine’s voice trailed off as her eyes flicked back and forth from Dagmara to her captain.

“Martine,” Sabien said, his voice suddenly becoming authoritarian. “You have one responsibility: watch the princess. Care to explain where you’ve been?”

Her lips parted, but nothing came out.

“I told you I was waiting for her,” Dagmara cut through the silence. She trotted down the platform stairs, escaping the captain.

“I thought you needed this?” Sabien called, waving the book.

“Martine will help me,” replied Dagmara. Her steps quickened, almost thinking Sabien would chase her down. She didn’t look back as she reached Martine’s side and interlaced their arms. She nearly pulled Martine out into the hallway, not knowing if she was leading them in the correct direction.

“Are you alright?” Martine asked. “We found the guard and—”

“He fainted, and I went to get help.”

“You’re shaking,” Martine noted.

“I’m fine,” Dagmara’s response was curt, but she wouldn’t let go of Martine’s arm, feeling a strange sense of security.

“Was Sabien—”

“I said I’m fine.”

Martine nodded. She fell silent for a moment, and Dagmara eventually slowed her pace when she felt out of breath. Her heart continued to hammer against her ribcage even when she slowed her speed.

“What did you tell Sabien I would help you with?” Martine asked.

Dagmara glanced at her. “I’m glad you asked.”